


I'll Be Good, I'll Be Good

by plutosrobin



Category: The Wilds (TV 2020)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Character Study, F/F, Found Family, Goodfoe, Internalized Homophobia, Religious Themes, Shoni - Freeform, dave goodkind can rot, her development is top notch, my actual baby tbh, petition to give shelby a hug, pov: shelby, shes going through it, the girls help her heal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28881813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutosrobin/pseuds/plutosrobin
Summary: Shelby Goodkind is many things: pageant queen, youth minister, perfect daughter. But underneath all that, she’s also a perfectly crafted lie, years in the making and indestructible. Her brutal, lifelong game of hide and seek is tested beyond its limits on a desert island in the middle of nowhere, and she’s just not sure she wants to play anymore.OR5 times Shelby hides from herself (and everyone else) and the 1 time she lets go.
Relationships: Shelby Goodkind/Toni Shalifoe
Comments: 15
Kudos: 156





	I'll Be Good, I'll Be Good

**Author's Note:**

> my 5 + 1 addiction is really showing, oops. wrote one for toni and then got this one stuck in my head for shelby. in the wise words of james acaster – ‘started making it, had a breakdown, bon appetite’  
> title is from ‘i’ll be good’ by jaymes young because it feels very shelby-ish

**_ONE - Before:_ **

Family is seriously important to Shelby Goodkind.

She’ll tell anyone who asks (and anyone who doesn’t) how they brought her up, taught her all she knows, loved her fiercely; and how she values that above everything else. In her darkest moments, when she’s most lost, she leans on them - replays their words over and over in her head like some sort of motivational video, and revels in the comfort they bring. She’ll talk about her family one day, on a private plane, to a stranger with pretty eyes in her genius team building activity, but for now she’s content to keep the information to herself.

She falls back on the old routine when she’s sitting in that dressing room, filled with the usual pre-pageant jitters and something else entirely. Her argument (if you could call it that) with Becca still hangs over her head and it sets her on edge, so she does what she knows and thinks of family. She thinks of her mother’s warm smile and her father saying that _God only does beautiful_ , and it’s enough to keep her hand steady as she brushes powder across her cheeks.

At least it is for a second.

Because then she hears _Shelby I’m so, so sorry_ and _it’s Becca Gilroy_ and _her mom found her in her car_ and the sound drowns out anything she’d been hearing before. Because then the room is crashing down around her and the other girls are looking at her like they’re worried she’ll crash down with it. Because then her hand isn’t steady anymore, and she’s not sure it ever will be again.

_It’s Becca Gilroy._

_It’s Becca Gilroy._

_It’s Becca Gilroy._

It’s nothing else.

Somehow, she ends up on the stage and there’s a microphone in front of her and a pianist playing and an audience waiting, and she doesn’t understand how any of them are so calm because _her mom found her in her car_ and she hasn’t even taken a breath since she walked out here.

**‘Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.’**

The verse comes out of nowhere, along with a faint memory of her father trying to console her when she’d lost her grandma so many years ago. It’s unwelcome, the memory, feeling less like a prayer and more like a slap in the face. Because there is no comfort here, on this stage. There is no comfort in her family’s words. There’s guilt and there’s grief and there’s anger but there is, nowhere, any piece of comfort.

She’s a little surprised that her voice is steady when she starts singing, in spite of the tears cutting lines through her makeup. It’s the song that Becca chose and for a second she’s back in her room, singing the words down to the bean bag where the other girl is smirking and doing some ridiculous dance moves. But the last lyric ends and Shelby hears muffled applause over her own heartbeat and she’s in the moment again, tear stained and broken. And she can’t help but think that this pain feels a whole lot like punishment.

Later, back at home, her father relents on the argument about her dental implants, but she’s never cared less about her teeth than at that moment. It’s only when she listens a little closer to what he’s saying that she really understands, his subtle double meaning hissing like embers that are one spark away from burning the whole place down.

“If it can be fixed, the pain’s worth it. Right, Shelbs?”

It’s a brief, sick thought, but she wonders if this pain will be what fixes her. If the grief will finally be enough to tear her apart, pull the sin out, and piece her back together like nothing ever happened. She’s made mistakes, and she will learn from them. She will be better.

Shelby hears herself respond as if from a distance, but for all the thoughts of growth and fixing learning, she can’t focus on the words. Because all she can think is _it’s Becca Gilroy_ over and over, and this is not like her teeth. This is not like her life.

This can’t be fixed.

 _It’s Becca Gilroy_ and it’s nothing and it’s gone. And she can’t get it back.

\---

**_TWO – Day One:_ **

The Dawn of Eve is supposed to be a female-centric retreat focused around bonding and growth through pottery and aromatherapy massages and swimming with dolphins. In reality, though, the Dawn of Eve is actually damp sand and sprained ankles and hunger, and Shelby can’t exactly say she’s pleased about the situation.

It starts on a private plane to Hawaii, with a cheesy orientation video, and it’s all the blonde can do to stop herself from bouncing in her seat. She’s well aware why her parents sent her off on this trip, knows that they hope it’ll ‘fix’ her, but she can’t bring herself to be upset about that when she’s being handed cake and she’s talking to a friendly girl with pretty eyes – Martha’s her name.

She’s shy but seems sweet, and Shelby’s more than a little relieved that she’ll have at least one friendly face around at the retreat. She’ll know the Martha with the gorgeous eyes, and maybe Jeanette with the cute bangs, and the girl in the basketball jersey-

She cuts her own train of thoughts off sharply when Martha points out the cake in her teeth, and then she’s in front of the bathroom mirror and she’s suddenly a whole lot less excited. Because no matter where she’s going, Texas or Hawaii, she’s still the same person. She can’t run away from that. Can’t run away from herself.

The turbulence comes next, throwing her to her knees in front of the bathroom door as she takes in the chaos in the rest of the cabin. Basketball girl is running to Martha, Jeanette-with-the-bangs has earphones jammed in and eyes squeezed tightly shut, and Dorothy is… smoking?

She sees them all take comfort however they can, and so she turns to her own personal solace, and in true Goodkind fashion, she prays. She’s too terrified to form a specific verse in the moment, so she prays for her survival, prays that the plane doesn’t go down, prays that if it does, they’ll somehow make it out alive. She prays to be saved, but with all the chaos and the fear, she’s not entirely sure whether she’s praying to be saved from the crash or from herself.

It’s only when she’s on solid ground (or, well, sand) that an actual verse pops into her head, heard in the familiar and expected voice of her father.

**‘I trust you to save me, lord God, and I won’t be afraid.’**

As she runs after Martha being dragged out by the tide, she’s afraid. When she see’s the other girl’s ankle she’s afraid. She was afraid when the plane went down and she’s afraid now, and no amount of trust is going to change that.

Shelby thinks back to the plane, then. She remembers hugging Jeanette and complimenting Martha and pulling the basketball-jersey-girl out of her seat, and wonders if this is her fault. If she had forgotten her past and her mistakes, if she had forgotten her promise for the future, if she had forgotten who she had to become, maybe this was a cruel reminder. Maybe it was another punishment, or a test, or whatever you wanted to call it.

Maybe this would have to be her repentance.

So, she takes charge of an exploration for fresh water and is only slightly annoyed when Toni volunteers to join her. They trudge through unrelenting brush and with each snarky comment from the other girl, Shelby is forced to remind herself that she is _Shelby Goodkind_ and she _does not do anger_. But when she’s smacked backwards by a branch and her head splits open on the way down the hill, it’s all she can do to keep her cool.

She is not here to be angry or afraid or- Or anything else. She’s here to repent. She hears her father and her mother and her siblings, and she’s trying. She’s trying so hard.

Toni is walking away and she wants to run after her and yell, or do something else completely ridiculous like tell the truth, but thoughts of her family keep her feet in place as she watches the other girl leave.

_Repent. Repent. Repent._

She just hopes this will be enough.

\---

**_THREE – Day Six:_ **

The sixth day on the island starts off well enough, so naturally it all goes to hell pretty quickly.

Shelby’s getting in a quick wash (or, as close as they can get to a wash) with Fatin and Nora when the Taki’s show up, and she’s pretty sure nobody in the history of everything has ever been as excited as she is to see a crumpled, soggy bag of chips. Not only do they mean food, which was desperately needed by all of the girls, but the blond also sees them as a sort of opportunity, and starts forming her master plan as they march the discovery back down the beach towards the others.

“I say we look at them as a grand prize, and we play for ‘em!”

Her suggestion is met with groans from all fronts but she perseveres, pitching the idea of the shelter building contest to Dot and relaxing when the other Texan seems just as excited as she is by the prospect. For a while there’s laughs and war painting and face-offs, but then the actual competition begins. Then everything starts going downhill.

At first it’s Toni storming away, but that’s not a new occurrence and Shelby keeps her cool by performing a passage from ‘Death of a Salesman’, at least until Nora brings up it’s true meaning. Because the idea of Biff disrespecting his parents makes her think of her parents, and she doesn’t under any circumstance want them in her head at the same time as Toni.

“Who’s fucking idea was this? Was it yours?”

She’s back and, predictably, blaming Shelby, but Martha leaps to her defence and asks her friend to _please just go with it._ Shelby can see how hard she’s trying, can see the shake of her hands as she pushes down that famous rage, and she starts to wonder if maybe she underestimated Toni.

She approaches the girl later on the rocks, not entirely sure of where she’s hoping the conversation will go or what she wants to get out of it. Something about _why_ Toni is so angry, maybe, but that gets derailed when they’re arguing again and they’re standing so close and this was definitely _not_ what Shelby had been expecting from the confrontation.

She didn’t expect herself to kick Toni either, but she wasn’t done with the exchange. She had more to say, more irritation to spill, more questions to ask. Or, at least, she did. Until-

“I see you.”

And it feels like her father on the treadmill refusing to meet her eyes. It feels like _Shelby,_ _you kissed me_ on her front porch. It feels like raw truth. And she doesn’t have an answer for that.

So instead, she watches as other girl walks away and this time she doesn’t try to bring her back, makes no attempt to follow her or recapture her attention, because Toni said _I see you_ and that’s what she’s been afraid of all along.

**‘Anger doesn’t solve anything. It builds nothing, but it can destroy everything.’**

Looking at the pile of branches that were once a half-built shelter, Shelby can’t help but agree with the verse, with the idea of anger leading to destruction. But she watches Martha storm off, sees the way Toni’s face crumples, meets her stare a second later. And though the destruction is rampant, and though she’s pretty sure Toni’s eyes might burn holes right through her head in a second, she’s aware of the fact that _something_ has been built.

She meets that fiery glare and she’s shocked and _pissed_ and a little afraid, but she also feels a spark of respect. Of understanding. A peek behind the curtain that gives her the slightest glimpse of honesty. Maybe that’s why Toni turns away and runs, the comprehension in the other girl’s eyes just a little too much for her to handle.

Shelby thinks that, maybe, she’s not the only one who’s hiding.

\---

**_FOUR – Day Twelve:_ **

When everyone gets sick, Shelby has no idea what to do.

There’s seven people collapsing around her and looking to her as the only one left standing for support, and she feels completely helpless. In her fear, she falls back on her religion and a verse once echoed by her family, falls back on the sound of their voices and hopes it’ll be enough to guide her through this living hell.

**‘The prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well.’**

So, Shelby prays. She prays and runs around with water and does all that she can, but still, it’s not enough. She prays for someone to help her, prays for nobody to meet the same fate as Jeanette, prays that all the sickness be given to her instead and the others will be okay. After a time Leah and Dot seem somewhat recovered, and Rachel, Nora and Fatin are improving slowly, but improving all the same. Toni and Martha, though, they’re ghostly pale and shaking, and despite the lack of mussels in her system, the sight makes Shelby nauseous.

Hope comes in the form of Dot beside her, digging through the ruined medicine bag for anything, _anything_ , that could help. Shelby tries to focus on the task at hand, keeping an eye on the bottles on the fire and occasionally glancing over at Fatin with the sick Minnesotans, but all she can think about is the last thing she said to Toni. She hears the echo of her own voice and it sounds like a foreign language, hears _that way of life is a sin_ and _I feel sorry for you._ It’s pretty much the same thing she said to Becca before-

Before.

But Dot pulls one halophen out of the bag and it’s a tiny miracle, so the blond lets her thoughts trail off for a second as they run over to the others with the medicine.

She drops to the ground beside the pale girl and lets her fingertips ghost over her leg for just a moment. Nobody disputes her when she says, “It’s obvious who needs it most,” and she’s grateful because she really doesn’t know if she has the capacity to argue with anyone right now. There is too much at stake. There is too much to lose.

Of course, Toni fights her, stubborn resistance burning in her eyes despite her weakened state, and it’s around then that Shelby realises she does have the capacity to argue with someone right now, if it means saving their life. If it means saving her life.

It’s in her hand and she’s looking at Toni and she’s terrified. But she has a lifeline and an opportunity to use it and there’s no way she’s going to make the same mistakes she did before.

That’s why she gives her the pill.

Because the last time she said something horrible to someone she cared about, she lost them. And as much as she’d deny it should anyone ask; she does care about Toni.

 _Fuck_ does she care about Toni.

So, she takes control of the one thing she knows that she can, pill pinched between two manicured fingers. She pins the other girl to the ground and forces the medicine into her like it’s her own life on the line, not Toni’s. She shows anger, the kind she promised her God that she would hide.

She shows desperation, the kind she promised herself she would hide.

She makes sure the other girl lives and forgets to worry about the implications of the act for just a second because she _has_ to be okay.

Because Toni is not Becca. Because she will not let Toni be Becca. Because Shelby refuses to allow her to become yet another piece of her own tragic backstory.

It’s not about pride. It never was, really. It’s about the things she feels that can never become words. It’s about knowing sin and knowing sacrifice and knowing above all else that Toni deserves to live. It’s about screaming, over and over again, _I care about you_ , and praying nobody hears.

**‘Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, o lord, you know it altogether.’**

That’s why she gives her the pill.

Because it’s the closest she can get to the truth.

\---

**_FIVE – Day Sixteen:_ **

What happens on day fifteen is a mistake. A lapse in judgement than can be pushed down and ignored until she forgets all about it, forgets all about her, forgets about hands on her waist and hair tangled between her fingers and-

It is a mistake.

But somehow, despite everything that happens that day, despite the running away and the wondering how long she can run for before she collapses, day sixteen is worse. Because there’s a plane coming for them and it’s going to take her back to Texas, back to her family, back to her act. The plane is going to take her back to her little game of hide and seek, and count to infinity while she waits in the dark to be found.

Shelby doesn’t have the energy for her usual positivity, and she can’t face Martha’s disappointment if that became obvious, so she takes herself away and tucks into a space between the boulders on the beachfront. It’s ironic, really. She’s so concerned about being forced back into hiding that she runs away and hides.

Pathetic. Predictable and pathetic

But the self-deprecation is not what Shelby needs, so she turns to her prayers and at first they work to keep her thoughts at bay. She asks for guidance and faith and strength and pinches the cross of her necklace between her fingers just so she has something to hold on to _. Give me faith to be what you intended,_ over and over, _give me faith to be what you intended_ like the repetition might force it into reality.

But it isn’t enough, and when Dot hands her a bottle, she lets go of the necklace and holds onto that instead. The weight is sturdier, strong enough maybe to break those stupid fucking dentures into pieces-

It’s hilarious, really.

The teeth are pushed back into place unharmed because she never really could take control of her own self. Not before. Not now. She belongs to her family and her God and all their expectations and she has _never_ been her own.

The alcohol has started to take effect and at last the sharp stab of her own incessant thoughts is dulled. Even with her very limited experience with drinking, she knows what it all means – the warmth in her chest and the way her head feels so much heavier and the subtle buzz in her fingertips. She’s abandoned her prayers to get completely trashed but her head is too fuzzy to wonder whether it’s a sin or not, so instead she thinks about how blissfully numb she feels.

She’s numb for the first time since the day before in the woods, numb for the first time since the splinter from the woodpile, numb for the first time since _you’re free here, Shelby._ Since hands and lips and soft cotton sweaters-

She’s numb.

 _Give me faith to be what you intended_ , and maybe what He intended was for her to be drunk on this beach. Maybe He intended for her to die here. Or maybe He intended for her to live long enough to find this place and these people and this freedom-

Her thoughts are wandering again so she drags them back to the first verse that pops into her head, and it’s oddly appropriate for the situation.

**‘So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.’**

The bottle feels lighter now than it did when Dot first gave it to her. It’s easier to lift it to her lips, easier to deal with the burning trail the alcohol leaves as it slides into her stomach, easier to ignore the way it curls in the emptiness there like a serpent. _To the glory of God._

It’s less of a toast at this point, more like a prayer that, alongside the vodka, she hopes will make this all go away for a second. The words echo in the distant crash of the waves and she hears her father’s voice among them. She hears Becca and Andrew and her mom, she hears her little brother and sister, hears their chanting rising to a deafening roar. _To the glory of God._

She raises the bottle again to take another sip. This time it doesn’t feel as light.

It feels like pushing a boulder to the top of a hill only for it to roll all the way back down again.

It tastes like a lie.

\---

**_SIX – Day Twenty-Three:_ **

The 23rd day on the island is strangely peaceful.

Toni and Shelby come back some time during the morning and though the latter stammers through possibly the worst lie she’s ever told, she’s quickly saved by Toni’s nonchalant answer. The next few hours are practically silent as every single one of the girls gorge themselves on the sudden influx of food after nothing for days. In a strange sort of way, it feels homely, and Shelby takes the quiet as an opportunity to think, to relax, to _breathe._

Sitting with Fatin a while later, fiddling with her little origami creation and pulling at her necklace, she tries not to let her fears overwhelm her again. She worries that maybe they’ll die here, and the freedom she worked so hard to find will be over in a few short weeks. Even more than that, though, she worries that they will be rescued, that she’ll go back to Texas and back to living a lie – the thought is almost more than she can handle.

But Fatin is still beside her, making some joke about the Bermuda Triangle, and she’s pulled to the surface again.

**‘Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.’**

The plane flew over and didn’t stop and she’s not back in Texas. It feels like a blessing. It feels like _rest._

She doesn’t realise she’s staring at Toni until the other girl points it out. She’s remembering her father’s words that felt like a lifetime ago, thinking _God only does beautiful_ , only this time she hears the words in her own voice and they don’t make her feel small anymore. She is looking at Toni on the cliff and thinking _God only does beautiful_ and she knows now that it’s true. So, when Fatin calls her out, she almost jumps, panicking for a second that maybe she’d been speaking out loud.

As it turns out, Fatin is just ridiculously perceptive when it comes to this sort of thing, and Shelby hasn’t accidentally spilled all her thoughts. Still, though, it doesn’t make hearing the other girls words any easier.

“I know sexual tension when I see it.”

Her heart leaps into her throat as she darts her eyes sideways, using all her remaining strength to push down the brewing denial. She was done lying.

Fatin sees the other girl’s panic and quickly amends, “But don’t worry,” zipping her lips with a supportive smile and hoping that it’ll be enough to stop the blond from retreating back behind whatever walls she had finally started to drop. To her relief, Shelby stands and starts to make her way towards the cliff, and she’s left with the folded bit of paper and a pile of lychees and a _shit-tonne_ of pride in her girl.

Up on the cliff, Shelby’s nervous. Being around Toni makes her jittery at the best of times but being around Toni when everyone else can see them is a whole different story. Yet in the back of her mind, as she kisses Toni in front of all of the girls, she thinks this might simultaneously be the calmest and most scared she has been since they first landed on the island.

Something tells her that if the crash was her punishment, then this is her salvation.

So, nerves and excitement swirling together in the pit of her stomach as her fingers curl around Toni’s jaw, she does what she knows and reaches out to her family for comfort. She reaches into the past to draw out their words and find safety in the memory, like she always has when she needs to. This time, though, it’s a little different. She doesn’t hear her dad’s voice. She doesn’t seek out her mom or her siblings.

Instead, she thinks back and latches on to her new group, to _hey party people_ and _train wrecks unite_ and _I see you._ Just like always, she reaches out to her family’s words in a moment of total vulnerability.

And this time, she finds them.

**Author's Note:**

> local cliché queen is back in business. this didn't really turn out as well as i wanted (i'm looking at you, section 2 + 3) but idk how to improve it so voilà. in other news, my 3 separate essays that I have due for school are looking at me kinda funny so maybe i should get back to those at some point. anyway ty for reading ily!!! <3


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